Plan B
by super-mars13
Summary: The only thing Rose wanted was a Jukebox, but she walks out as a co owner of a bar along with a stranger? What if that stranger turned out to be her soul mate? AH. RxEm. R&R!


**Ahhh! SuperMars reunitation!! Here's on of our many new stories to come! Be nice please!!  
**

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"Hey Rose, weren't you looking for a jukebox? This guy's selling a bar and stuff so there's bound to be a jukebox," Vera said, holding up a fluorescent orange cardboard sign that advertised the bar sale. Oh joy, another one.

"Let me see that," I said, walking back to where she stood. I took it from her hands and read what it said:

**Bar Sale!**

**At Asylum, Touche 1506**

**See me, Emmett Cullen, 456-8527**

**Come between 11 a.m. to 9 p.m. No later!!**

**Really really cheap stuff!!**

**So, you come now!**

**Seriously, now!**

"Wow, that's interesting, I'll have to check it out," I pretended to sound bored but this actually brightened my mood.

"Yeah, so anyway, why do you want a jukebox? They're so _tacky_."

"No they aren't. They were like the radio of the past," I scoffed, walking ahead of her.

"Well whatever, no one cares about them," she panted trying to walk as fast as me.

Welcome to my life. Full of prissy ass friends who wouldn't know intelligence if it slapped them in the face. They were so rich, brains didn't matter. But that wasn't the case with me. I was actually smart. I was a college graduate. Crazy right?

And unlike them my daddy didn't buy me anything. Or at least I didn't let him. I paid my way through college, my daddy was a complete jackass who thought he could buy me off and call me by the wrong name my entire life. Of course since we had so much money, we lived in a high society neighborhood with a bunch of bitches with stupid rat dogs. I knew that if I got out of line one time with my behavior than my dad would kick me out in a heartbeat. No second thoughts about it. So I hung out with the girls who were my age, pretended to care about the pedicures and lip gloss that they had just got. I think I would have a great career in acting, as far as I could tell no one had seen through me yet.

"You know what Vera I think we passed a hair salon a few blocks back, why don't you take the car and go get your hair done." I said making arm motions to let her know witch way was back.

"Well how will you get home?" her dog yipped in her purse and I rolled my eyes.

"I'll, um call a cab."

"Eww, Rosalie, poor people ride in cabs." her new nose job was making her voice even higher and nasalier than usual.

"Well you want to get your hair done right?" she turned around and her new heels clicked on the pavement. Her too-short skirt showed too much as she opened the door and leaned to get in the car. She was wearing a skirt... in thirty degrees weather.

"Bye-bye Rosie!" she yelled, then laughed as she drove away waving.

"Later Vera," I said to myself and waved. I shoved my hands in my pockets and sighed, turning around and seeing the sign again. She was right, there had to be a jukebox. I memorized the address, crossed the street, then hurried down the sidewalk. It only took me about ten minutes to find the bar. I pushed open the door and walked inside. The air was warm on my cold face.

"Hey! Welcome to Asylum. Congratulations, you're the first customer of the day!" I heard a voice boom and I looked up. It was an extremely muscular man. He threw down a dishrag and grinned at me. "But if you're looking for alcohol, I'm selling the place so, none here."

"No, no, I saw a sign for a bar sale? Do you happen to have a jukebox?" I asked politely.

"No, sorry. I sold it already to one of my good friends. Well, I guess you could say that everyone's a 'good friend'. I _am _a bartender," He smiled.

"Aw, damn," I sighed, running my hands through my hair. "So, why are you shutting down?"

"Oh, pretty much the fact that not many people are here at once. But I'm pretty sure everyone in this town has been here at least once."

"That's probably true," I laughed. "Man, I really want a jukebox, it would be time consuming to set up and everything."

"Well, I have a good pastime."

"What?"

"How would you feel about owning a bar?" He grinned, sitting on the bar.

"That kind of sounds fun. But I doubt that it could really happen. I don't know about that kind of money," I said, thoughts of my father flooding my head.

"Well I hate giving the place up. I really feel like the Asylum's a part of me you know?" he laughed at his words.

"No I don't." I laughed with him, though mine sounded like trash compared to his.

"Well I can't dig myself that big of a hole. I've already got about a thousand dollars worth of loans that I'll never be able to pay back, then of course there's the money to get the place going again. I can't believe I have to end it."

"You know it could be fun." I said walking over and pushing myself up to sit next to him on the counter.

"What?"

"The whole bar owning thing. I mean if I had a partner, someone to help me out...someone with experience." I teased.

"Like who?" he asked sincerely.

"Well there's this one guy I just met today, he used to own a bar but he has to sell it. I think it would be great if he didn't have to."

"Do you have the money?" he asked catching on.

"Daddy's loaded." I said in a nasally voice.

"Oh my God! Are...are you freaking kidding me? You'd do that?" he jumped off the counter.

"You'll still have to help." I pointed at him and raised my eyebrows.

"I know, I know that's fine, that's great, that's just goddamn amazing! Thanks you so much!" He pulled me off the counter and twirled me around.

"Sorry," he set me down. "That's probably not a very proper way to start a business. I'm Emmett Cullen," he held out his hand, looking like a perfect gentleman.

"I'm Rosalie Hale." I took his hand and we shook on it.

"Okay, so you're going to need my cell number," he said, pulling a black phone out of his pocket, the Rumor 2. The same as my phone but mine was aqua blue.

He held his phone out to me and took it quickly. I typed in Rose and then my number. Then I handed his back, along with mine. He typed for a moment then handed it back to me.

"Okay, so I'm gonna go, and I'll call my dad and pull the 'daddy's little angel' bullshit and I'll call you, 'kay?" I smiled.

"Sounds good, see ya Rosalie."

I whirled around and pushed open the door, the crisp winter air nipped at my face. I walked down the snowy street, grinning ear to ear.

I always loved winter. It seemed like the snow made everyone and everything calm and quiet. I definitely prefer cold over hot. I inhaled the cool air, breathing deeply noticing my breath in my face.

"Rosie! What are you doing in the cold?" I heard a voice shriek then the black Mercedes pull in front of me. The black window rolled down and there was my mother's face. The face that went through two nose jobs, 5 face lifts, 1 lip injection, 3 cheek enhancer things, and a forehead reduction. Yeah, she's ridiculous.

"Walking?" I scoffed.

"Well get in the car!" She grinned hugely.

"I want to walk."

"You'll freeze," she spat.

"I'll take that chance," I said, walking on. She drove the car slowly down the street. Maybe she would hit another kid on a bike and we would get sued again.

"Rosalie Lillian Hale! Get in this car right now!"

Okay Rose, what are your options: 1.) Take a ride with a bitch. 2.) Get kicked out.

"Fine." I rolled my eyes, got in the passenger's side and fixed my hair after shutting the door.

"Now your father and I were planning on taking a trip to Florida until New Years. Now he decided that we should give you the option of staying here, though I have no idea why you would want _that_ but-"

"No, you're right. I want to stay here."

"Well that's what I thought. But are you really sure? I mean it's Florida Rose and that spray tan isn't the same as the sun's tan." she said matter-of-factly.

"Mom, I don't get spray tans."

"Well maybe you should, you're getting pale." she pointed at my noticeably pale skin and start spreading it. As if she could pull apart skin, only your doctors can do that mom. Stupid bitch.

"I'm sure," I said dusting her hand off my neck. "I'll stay here, when are you leaving?"

"Tomorrow, we've been planning this for awhile actually."

"Okay, I need to get some money from dad first though."

"Really? Oh Rosie he'll be so happy that your sharing something with him!" She squealed.

"Sharing what with him?"

"Well the profit of course."

"Um no, I won't be this money is to...start my own business."

"Really?" she asked her voice lower than normal, skepticism in her eyes.

"Yes, absolutely."

"Do you think you're ready for that?" she put the car in park and unbuckled her seat belt quickly. I did the same and got out, walking up the long drive with her.

"Yes I do! Unlike the girls in this neighborhood I got a degree! _I _know what _I'm _doing!" I spat at her.

"I don't trust it," she shook her head.

"Well, you always told me I could become whatever I wanted, right?" Before you turned into the morbid bitch. "Well, that's what this is."

...

"No," he folded his fingers together.

"Why?" I asked, sighing, flopping down in the chair.

"Because, you're doing this with some _stranger._ Plus, you know nothing about business."

"This is the _only _time I _ever _ask for money. Please?" I groaned impatiently.

"No, Lillian."

"That's _not _my name," I spat standing up.

"Okay, I'm sorry. I guess we can give it a try."

"Thank you, thank you, thank you!" I squealed as he got out his checkbook.

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**AHHHH!!! It's 2 a.m.!!! Gahhhh!!!**


End file.
